


Aniki

by Reyanth



Category: Tenipuri - Fandom, Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2018-05-30 21:13:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6441004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reyanth/pseuds/Reyanth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fuji Syusuke has been perpetually tormented by inappropriate feelings for his younger brother but when Yuuta takes the initiative and acts on his own feelings, how will Syusuke cope?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I vaguely remember writing this purely because I had so many Fuji-centric stories where he was the manipulative aggressor that I just wanted to try something different. Who could knock Fuji off balance if not his dear little otouto? It turned out to be a fun experiment in human weakness for a writer who loves a challenge. (Full disclosure: I have no siblings.)

Yuuta stood outside his brother’s door, staring at the solid wood. Downstairs, he could hear his sister bustling about in the kitchen, washing dishes. His family were all going about their business, unaware of the intentions Yuuta had for his brother on the other side of that door.

Clenching his fists, he took a calming breath and then knocked.

“Come in.”

Syusuke was sitting on the edge of his bed, one leg folded under him, the other touching the floor. He was browsing a botanical magazine spread open beside him. 

“Yuuta,” he said by way of greeting, sounding surprised.

Before Syusuke could slip into sibling mode, Yuuta closed the door behind him.

“Aniki,” he stated, almost calmly.

Without leaving himself a chance to hesitate, he strode forward and grabbed Syusuke by the arms, leaning down to press his lips against his brother’s. 

Surprisingly, Syusuke didn’t struggle or push him away, and after several seconds of awkward anticipation, Yuuta broke the kiss. A moment later, he let go of Syusuke’s arms, and then backed up a pace, trying to control his nervously hitching breath.

Still as a cornered mouse, Syusuke breathed his name with confusion in his tone and a slight shift in expression that read as surprise. Other than that, he stayed silent, and Yuuta, waiting impatiently for his brother to say something, realized that it was up to him to explain his actions or else run for it. He clenched his trembling hands.

“Aniki,” he began, pausing to lick dry lips… Lips licked, dry status averted, Yuuta still didn’t continue. He just stared at his brother, unable to say any of the things he’d rehearsed. Jumpy, he flinched when Syusuke stood and gently placed a hand on his shoulder, smiling kindly, as always, as if nothing had happened.

“What’s this about?” he asked.

He sounded encouraging and caring, and Yuuta found himself relaxing automatically under the influence of that disarming smile. Staring helplessly at Syusuke’s comforting expression, Yuuta tilted his face to the side, rubbing his cheek against the hand on his shoulder like a helpless kitten. How was it that his brother managed to reduce him to this pathetic, voiceless lump? Hadn’t he come here for a reason?

“I’m tired of coming second to you,” he practically whined.

“Ahh,” Syusuke breathed. “Now I understand. You were hoping some of my natural talent would rub off-”

“Don’t joke!” Yuuta exclaimed. If there was ever a time to get Syusuke to stop treating him like a kid, this was it. “I’m not stupid, Aniki. I kissed you. I meant to kiss you.”

Now Syusuke sounded worried. “Yuuta, why-?”

“Because I’m attracted to you, moron!” Yuuta snapped, throwing Syusuke’s hand off his shoulder. He was terrified and angry at the same time. When he was through, Syusuke would probably be disgusted and embarrassed, but there was no way he could go on any longer without baring his feelings. “Every time I see your stupid, grinning face, I think about kissing you. So I did.”

“Yuuta, I’m your brother.”

…The difference in Syusuke’s usual expression was not to be found in the eyes. Rather, it was his mouth. The corners of his lips were so often pulled up that when he expressed shock, or disapproval, the change was obvious to anyone who knew him. 

Now, Yuuta’s eyes lingered on the corners of Syusuke’s mouth, mesmerized by the slight downturn to his lips. “I know that,” Yuuta told him, still staring at Syusuke’s mouth rather than meeting his eyes. “I’m reminded of that every time someone addresses me.”

*

Fuji stared blankly at his brother, unsure of what was going on, and feeling, for once, as though he was out of his depth. What was Yuuta playing at? Was this a joke? His idea of pulling one over on his overly-praised older brother? How was he supposed to react?

He knew how he wanted to react, but that was certainly not an option. 

…It was okay. He could deal with this. Just smile, keep calm, and pretend like he wasn’t half hard from Yuuta’s antics.

“Yuuta, is something bothering you? Do you want to talk to me?” he asked, pleased with the smooth way his voice came out.

Scowling, Yuuta took a step forward. Automatically, Fuji backed away. The proximity was far too disconcerting.

“I want you to stop treating me like a kid,” Yuuta growled.

Fuji’s legs touched the bed and he felt his cheeks grow warm. There was something about the predatory way Yuuta was advancing that simply pounced on the concept of ‘bed.’ Sensing danger, Fuji sidestepped, and Yuuta followed.

“Treat me like a person, not your damn kid brother,” Yuuta continued.

“I do treat you like a person,” Fuji argued. “And you are my kid brother,” he pointed out. “What’s gotten into you?” He hit the wall.

“Damn it,” Yuuta muttered, caging Fuji against the wall by placing his hands on either side of his brother’s body. “This isn’t how this was supposed to go.”

Almost afraid to ask, Fuji did so anyway, sure he would regret it. “How what was supposed to-?”

Yuuta kissed him again, effectively cutting him off. Only, this time, an insistent tongue pressed against his lips, prying them open and slipping inside.

It wasn’t that Fuji didn’t know he should be pushing Yuuta away… He was quite aware of that. However, even as he thought about doing so, his hands rested lightly on his brother’s waist and his tongue gently pushed back.

*

Yuuta was pressing his luck, he knew. Even if Syusuke was one of the most patient people in the world, he still had his limits. It didn’t seem to matter, though. All the carefully planned excuses and defiant retorts had completely slipped Yuuta’s mind the moment his lips had first touched Syusuke’s. Now, it was all he could do not to turn and flee.

So he kissed Syusuke instead. It might be the wrong thing to do but it was better than running and hiding for all of his life because he never found the courage to reveal his feelings—even if the only way he seemed to be able to do that was through physical contact.

He expected to be rejected at any moment, so, naturally, when Syusuke actually kissed him back, he felt the most amazing rush of elation. He didn’t care about the why of the matter, only that it was happening.

Syusuke’s tongue, Syusuke’s lips… He pressed closer, instantly turned on as he felt his brother’s erection poking into his pelvis. He shifted until his own hardness brushed against it, and moaned into Syusuke’s mouth.

The kiss deepened and the brothers’ tongues tangled. Yuuta tilted his head back, no longer needing to play the aggressor as he wound his arms around his brother’s neck. He whimpered in disappointment as Syusuke’s tongue withdrew but gasped as his lower lip was nipped, sucked, and then gently licked.

Breathing hard, he shifted, his lips barely brushing over Syusuke’s as he tried to revive the passionate kiss. Syusuke eluded him, panting softly and blowing little puffs of air onto Yuuta’s wet lips.

“Yuuta,” he breathed suddenly. “You shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Oh, and you’re trying real hard to keep your tongue out of my mouth,” Yuuta retorted, grinding into his brother’s rock hard erection as he once again tried to capture Syusuke’s lips and was foiled.

“You started this,” Syusuke reminded him, gasping all the same.

Smirking, Yuuta backed off, redirecting to whisper into Syusuke’s ear, “And those are your hands on my ass.”

Syusuke froze. Then, slowly, he removed his groping limbs, withdrawing them to hang limply at his sides.

“There,” he said. “Now it’s your turn.”

“Like hell,” Yuuta growled, crushing Syusuke’s lips with his own once more as he ground his erection into his brother’s. 

Despite his arguments, Syusuke moaned into Yuuta’s mouth, his hips bucking autonomously in pursuit of friction. Determined to destroy the tensai’s self control, Yuuta focused on providing that friction rather than enhancing his own pleasure. He wanted Syusuke to get off, his tongue undeniably tangled with his younger brother’s, and his cock twitching between their bodies.

Just the thought made him groan and Syusuke returned the sound, the vibration causing Yuuta’s tongue to tingle. He slipped a hand beneath his older brother’s shirt, sliding over heated skin until he found his target. Pinching the pert bud, he rocked against his brother and Syusuke gasped.

The dependable older brother gripped Yuuta’s shoulders, probably with the intention of pushing him away. Instead, he pulled Yuuta closer as the younger boy rolled his brother’s nipple between thumb and finger. Panting, Yuuta broke the kiss so he could watch Syusuke’s expression as he came.

It was every bit as sexy as he’d imagined, perhaps more. His cheeks flushed, pieces of hair sticking to his face, Syusuke tipped his head back and moaned, the pace of his bucking hips increasing. Yuuta continued teasing one nipple then the other as he shifted so Syusuke was grinding into his hip. His other hand slipped inside his own pants, squeezing his aching cock.

As Syusuke came with several ragged, jolting thrusts against Yuuta’s body, the younger brother quickly stroked himself off, his eyes wide open, appreciating every twitch of Syusuke’s features. He came a moment later, grunting as he soiled his hand and his boxers.

Sagging, Yuuta rested his face against his brother’s chest, one hand in his pants, the other palm flattened against the skin beside his cheek. “Syusuke,” he sighed, knowing that he was probably going to lose his annoyingly loving brother after this.

He flinched instinctively as Syusuke’s arms began to slide around his shoulders, hugging him closer instead of flinging him away. Surprised, he stood there, crushed in his brother’s arms.

Slowly, he drew is hand out of his pants, careful not to touch anything. “Aniki?” he asked, his voice barely a whimper.

Syusuke said nothing, just held him, burying his face in Yuuta’s hair. Not quite understanding but relieved that he wasn’t being tossed out just yet, Yuuta relaxed, closing his eyes and savoring the comfortable embrace.

*

Fuji felt as though he was going to cry. He was ashamed of what he’d just done and riddled with guilt that he couldn’t stop it.

Breathing in the scent of Yuuta’s shampoo, tightening his embrace of the boy in his arms, he knew he’d gone too far. He should never have allowed this to happen. He should have cut it off at that first awkward kiss. If he hadn’t half been hoping it would lead to more the entire time, he would have. If he was a better brother, he would have.

Now, he felt dirty and soiled; the sticky substance coating his groin a testament to his depravity. It didn’t matter that Yuuta had been perfectly willing to encourage him and had, in fact, started the whole thing. It didn’t matter that Yuuta had enjoyed the exchange as much as he had. Fuji was older and supposedly more responsible. It was his job to protect and support his brother, not defile him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I couldn’t stop.”

*

“I’m sorry.” 

The whispered words startled Yuuta out of his blissful state of forgetfulness and he was once more reminded that the person he was clinging to was his own brother. 

“I couldn’t stop.”

What was Syusuke apologizing for? Yuuta was the one who had seduced him, made him lose control… Was Syusuke blaming himself?

“I didn’t want you to,” Yuuta argued. “Aniki…” He pulled back, slipping out of Syusuke’s arms. He couldn’t see his brother’s face—it was hidden by the hair falling around his hanging head. Was he that embarrassed? Or was he angry? …Or perhaps ashamed of the brother who would force him to do such a thing?

Unable to take his brother’s silence, Yuuta backed away. “I’m sorry, Aniki,” he breathed before he turned and ran. He thought about heading for his room but he couldn’t stay where Syusuke could confront him.

“Yuuta, you’re leaving already?” his sister called as he rushed past her, holding his sticky palm against his shirt and scooping up his bag with the clean hand.

“Yeah, I just remembered an assignment due tomorrow. I need Mizuki senpai’s help,” he bullshitted haphazardly as he bee-lined for the door. 

“Well when are you coming back?” she called after him.

“I don’t know!” Yuuta replied, tears stinging his eyes as he wondered if he would ever be able to face Syusuke again.

*

Fuji didn’t move, save to lean heavily against the wall as the door clicked shut. If he’d chased after Yuuta he would have said something he couldn’t take back, and as bad as the situation already was, it could easily get worse.

As if he didn’t already feel shameful enough, the memory of Yuuta’s lips on his own and tongue in his mouth caused his spent cock to twitch with interest. Too vividly, he could feel Yuuta’s erection grinding into his thigh; those fingers, calloused from tennis, grazing his chest.

How was he supposed to resist those naïve touches, those devastatingly innocent kisses? But they weren’t so naïve and innocent, were they? Yuuta had touched him, kissed him, all of his own volition. 

Weakly, Fuji sighed and pushed off the wall. He needed to shower. 

Undressing, he examined the damage and determined that he’d have to throw the pants away. That wasn’t a stain he could get out himself and it wasn’t as if he could explain the incident to his mother—or worse, his sister.

Fuji could understand Yuuta’s urge to experiment. He could even understand a slight affinity for an older brother who was handsome, talented… and oh so very modest. 

The momentary self-derogatory chuckle was sparing on mirth and quickly faded as Fuji wrapped a towel about his waist. What worried him was that Yuuta had acted on desires that he himself had been suppressing for some time now. It wasn’t right for brothers to want each other. It had been bad enough when it was just Fuji and his sordid dreams and rare, indulgent fantasies. If Yuuta felt the same way…

Was that why he had moved away? Was the scorn and jealousy that he preached just a cover for even more unsavory feelings?

Heading for the bathroom, Fuji wondered if he would ever be able to organize his thoughts again.


	2. Chapter 2

“First years, round up the balls. Fuji… Come with me.”

Fuji paused. Practice was over, what did Tezuka want?

Perhaps to scold him on his dismal performance? Not that he didn’t beat every one of his practice opponents but his heart—no—his mind just wasn’t in it. Maybe it showed a little more than he was willing to admit. He lagged in laps and his accuracy was fine, just not… perfect; not up to his standard.

Was Tezuka going to call him out on not playing his best? Maybe, at the extreme, threaten that if he didn’t get it together he would be off the team?

Fuji smiled and nodded, dropping the bag that had been halfway to his shoulder to follow Tezuka into the school. Why they couldn’t just talk in a quiet spot was beyond him. Instead, Tezuka dragged him all the way up to a classroom overlooking the courts where the poor first years were scurrying about after scattered tennis balls. 

When Tezuka didn’t talk immediately, Fuji wandered over to the windows to watch. He really couldn’t blame Tezuka if he was angry. It was bad enough that Fuji had no drive to win in the first place. The way he’d played today… 

He couldn’t help it. He was distracted. Yuuta’s actions last night, and his own response… He just didn’t know what to do and it was reflected in his tennis. His usually natural focus was in shambles.

“Fuji.”

Fuji jumped, almost to prove his last thought. Normally, not even Tezuka would be able to sneak up on him.

The captain’s hands came down on his shoulders as if to keep him from running away. Fuji took a calming breath, afraid of what Tezuka would say.

“What’s wrong?”

Fuji spun around, his eyes widened in surprise. He searched Tezuka’s face for some sign of levity or derision but it didn’t seem to be a trap. Was Tezuka offering him counsel?

“Nothing’s wrong,” Fuji replied once he found his tongue, regaining his smile in the blink of an eye. “Why would you ask?” Dumb question. 

“You don’t seem to be yourself today,” Tezuka replied, wrapping up all the little discrepancies Fuji had demonstrated in that one little sentence.

“I’m just tired, Tezuka,” Fuji told him, willing his voice to its most calm and soothing tone. “It’s been-”

“I’ve seen you tired, Fuji,” Tezuka cut in, his eyes narrowing. “This isn’t it.”

Damn. Fuji stopped trying. There was no point in trying to fool Tezuka. 

Turning away to look out the window once more, Fuji watched the first years for another minute. “Something happened last night that I don’t quite understand,” he said eventually. He chuckled quietly, leaning against the window. “That’s a new experience for me, you know.”

“Not understanding?” Tezuka sounded amused. Lucky him.

Fuji sighed. “Precisely.” A pause. “I’m not joking.”

“Obviously, if it’s affecting you enough to show in your game,” Tezuka replied calmly.

His voice was just as neutral as ever, so why did it suddenly sound so mocking?

“I’m sorry,” Fuji muttered. “If you want to remove me from the regulars, I’ll understand.”

Tezuka laughed. He actually laughed. 

Fuji turned on him, hurt and angry. He was planning to snap and get out of there before he embarrassed himself further but Tezuka spoke before he could get around to it.

“Fuji, even at your worst you’re irreplaceable,” he said seriously. “I’m sorry I laughed, it’s just that you’re jumping at shadows.”

Fuji’s first instinct was, again, anger, but then he sighed, hanging his head and leaning back against the window. “You’re right. I am.”

“Want to talk about it?”

Yeah. Right. Talk. To Tezuka. About wanting to screw his own dear little brother… Come to think of it, talking to Tezuka about screwing anything would be bad enough.

“…No.” 

Fuji made to brush past him but Tezuka grabbed his shoulders, stopping him in his tracks.

“Fuji, I’m not going to drop you but this needs to stop. Even the first years will start to notice-”

Fuji cut the captain off. “Tezuka, have you ever played that word game where you respond to a noun with whatever comes to mind?” he snapped.

Tezuka frowned. “Yes, I think so. Why?”

His smile practically a sneer, Fuji silkily asked, “Did you ever answer anything other than ‘tennis?’”

Tezuka’s confused expression soured instantly at the punch line. “Fine. I’m worried about you, not your damn tennis. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Not really.” Fuji looked away, feeling a little guilty. He hadn’t meant to lash out like that. “I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted.” Tezuka slowly let go of his shoulders as if Fuji would bolt the moment he was released.

Truthfully, the tensai contemplated it. What really stopped him was that he knew Tezuka was faster and would easily catch up to him.

What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t be honest about what had happened last night. Tezuka didn’t even know he was gay. If he said he’d engaged in incestuous actions with his own brother… That might just be enough to get Fuji kicked off the team, out of school, and maybe even shamed out of town—tensai or not.

“Listen,” he began. “Tezuka, I appreciate the effort—really—but I do not want to talk about it and I never will. I can’t. I won’t. Now, please just let me-”

Fuji gasped in surprise as he was pulled into Tezuka’s arms and almost crushed against the captain’s body.

“Shhh,” Tezuka instructed quietly into Fuji’s hair. “I was wrong to use tennis as an excuse. I—What I wanted to say was…” He sighed, pausing to start over. “Fuji, I hate that false smile. You can walk into a tense and angry atmosphere and instantly diffuse the situation just by smiling. You might think that smile of yours is the perfect mask but I can tell. Even more clearly than if you frowned, or scowled, or showed any other open expression… I can see right through that smile when it’s not genuine… and it hurts. So whatever it is, whatever is bothering you… Even if you don’t want to talk to me, if there’s something I can do to fix the pain…” Tezuka held him even tighter, if possible. “I’ll do it.”

Fuji, frozen with shock at this emotional display from his stoic captain, almost forgot to mention that he couldn’t breathe. As it was, he tried to draw a breath to sob, only then remembering. “Te-Tezuka… can’t… can’t breathe…” By the time the hug loosened, Fuji already had tears streaming down his cheeks.

All the anger, confusion, and self loathing he’d been bottling up all day came pouring out thanks to Tezuka’s unexpected experiment in feelings. Damn him! And Damn Yuuta for making Fuji feel like this! And damn Fuji himself for letting any of this happen! What kind of tensai was he if he couldn’t even avoid this stupid, complicated emotional crap!?

It really wasn’t as bad as his wracking sobs made out. In fact, it was hardly anything at all. So he’d kissed his brother… So he’d crossed the line… So he’d corrupted the one sacred thing in his life that he wanted only to protect…

The sobs grew harsher until Fuji was practically clinging to Tezuka to stay upright. What the hell was wrong with him? His mind was cynical but calm, but his body just wouldn’t stop fucking crying.

For once, someone was just holding Fuji and letting him cry. It wasn’t the tensai softly weeping in his room, or being coerced into smiling by his mother, or ordered to stop acting like a girl by his father, or teased by his brother… Tezuka was just holding him and letting him pour out all of the emotional build up that had been locked within his body, probably for years.

By the time the tears became trickles and sobs turned into sniffles, Fuji was on the floor, draped over Tezuka who was still holding him upright, softly stroking his hair.

“It’s… it’s not that bad,” Fuji choked out, needing Tezuka to understand. “I… I don’t know where that came from…” He did but he couldn’t even begin to explain at this point and he didn’t want to.

“Shhh, I know,” Tezuka whispered.

It felt as if the captain kissed his hair but Fuji couldn’t be sure. More importantly… “I feel better,” he offered. “Kind of.” Hopefully this would satisfy Tezuka’s curiosity, or sympathy, or whatever it was… “I can think more clearly, at least.”

“That’s good.” Tezuka just continued to hold him and stroke his hair, as if sensing that Fuji wasn’t quite done.

Suddenly feeling exhausted, Fuji buried his face in Tezuka’s shoulder but turned it towards the captain’s neck so that only his cheek was resting against the damp material. “Sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

“If it helped, then I don’t mind,” Tezuka replied.

“Why are you being so… nice?” Fuji asked with a little laugh.

Even at his most friendly, Tezuka was all rational conversation and passive listening. Fuji had never known him to actively pursue a personal subject. He really was only aggressive about tennis, at least that Fuji had seen.

When Fuji noticed how long the pause had dragged out, he began to pull away, but Tezuka finally answered.

“If I have to tell you, then you don’t need to know.”

What kind of an answer was that? Talented as he was when it came to riddles, Fuji really had no idea what Tezuka was thinking.

Stupid captain.

Finally pulling out of Tezuka’s arms, Fuji wiped his face with his sleeve then made a face. “I need to shower.”

Tezuka shrugged and began to stand, holding out a hand for Fuji. “I wasn’t going to say anything.”

That would be Tezuka making fun of him. Asshole.

Fuji ignored the helping hand, standing up himself. He didn’t want this to become a habit. Better make it clear to Tezuka that as of this moment they were back to absolute normal.

He smiled. 

Tezuka frowned.

“Thank you,” Fuji said politely before making his escape.

He wasn’t certain but he thought he heard a growl follow him out the door.

*

Tezuka watched his tensai make a quick escape—he wasn’t sure when he had started referring to Fuji as ‘his’ tensai but in a way it was true. Fuji belonged to Seigaku and, thus, Fuji was his. That was, of course, wishful thinking. Fuji would have it that he belonged to nothing and no one—and he was, of course, correct. Tezuka was especially reminded of that at times like this.

He had never expected Fuji to break down crying in his arms. All he had wanted was to find out what was so obviously wrong. He’d wanted was to show Fuji that he was there—that he could be a good friend. 

Either Fuji had felt safe enough that he allowed himself to let go and cry on Tezuka’s shoulder, or he had given in to an immense weight on his shoulders. Then, suddenly, it was all over, and that hideous false smile was back in place. Fuji left so quickly that Tezuka could still see the fake expression like an afterimage.

Though Tezuka did not often capitulate to curiosity, he longed to know what Fuji was hiding beneath that mask of his.


	3. Chapter 3

Fuji didn’t expect to see Yuuta for at least a week. So, naturally, he was surprised when he opened his bedroom door to see his brother sitting on his bed.

“Yuuta!” he exclaimed, much as he had the previous night.

“Hey… Aniki,” Yuuta muttered, staring at the ground rather than looking Fuji in the eyes. “Listen, I’m sorry about last night… I didn’t mean to-”

“Yuuta!” Fuji cried again, dashing to pull the smaller boy into his arms and hold him tight. “Please, forgive me,” Fuji whispered. “I know I’m a terrible brother—I’ve always been a terrible brother, and I’m sorry, I-”

“You’re not a terrible brother!” Yuuta cut in.

“I am, I am! I-”

“No. Stop!” When Fuji kept trying to apologize over him, Yuuta’s patience finally snapped. “Just shut up and listen to me!”

Stopping in his tracks, Fuji backed off. His brilliant mind finally caught up with him, analyzing his instinctive actions as coming from a trigger of panic and shock at seeing his brother again so soon. He licked his lips, already planning to apologize for his reaction, but Yuuta spoke before he could.

“You’re not a bad brother, Syusuke, and you can stop apologizing. You didn’t do anything wrong… I did.” He stood up, and suddenly they seemed a lot closer. “I was selfish and only thinking about myself. I forced you into something you didn’t want to-”

“But I did!” Yuuta sounded so calm and so unlike himself that Fuji almost started crying. His voice cracked as he cut in. “You were wrong to start it, Yuuta, but I didn’t want to end it. I could have stopped you but I didn’t try!”

“Yes, you did,” Yuuta said quietly, reaching out but backing off when Fuji flinched. “And I should have taken the hint but I kept pushing, and… I hurt you.” Fuji shook his head. “I did,” Yuuta mumbled. “I can tell. Otherwise you wouldn’t be crying.”

Fuji hardly realized that there were indeed tears slipping down his cheeks as Yuuta reached out again to catch them in fingers cupping his cheek. He wanted to kick himself. How could he show so much weakness for the second time in one day?

Taking a deep, calming breath, Fuji gently removed Yuuta’s hand from his cheek. If it stayed there much longer, he wouldn’t have had the will to do so. It was such a tender gesture from his brother that he wasn’t sure if he was talking to the right Yuuta, anymore.

“When did you grow up?” he breathed in disbelief.

Yuuta looked down at their still joined hands. “I went about everything all wrong last night,” he said. “I let myself get frustrated, and I was afraid you would laugh at me or throw me out, and things got out of hand. What I came to say is that… Shit. Aniki…” He sighed. “I’m no good at this.”

“Yuuta…” Having calmed down some, Fuji pushed away the churning regret and anger at himself, his tone turning serious. “What happened last night has opened my eyes to a lot of things that I wish I could forget and ignore. I should have recognized my own twisted feelings much earlier but I was too ignorant. I’m sorry for that. If I’d had time… a chance to process everything…” Stop making excuses. “Yuuta, I love you. You’re my little brother and I love you dearly-”

“Syusuke, I-”

“Shhh, listen,” Fuji whispered. “For years I have done my best to be a good brother but I always seem to fail because… because I don’t see you as a brother. I… I think I’ve been trying to overcompensate out of guilt, maybe so you wouldn’t notice… I didn’t want to hurt you. I guess… I guess I went too far and I hurt you more by doing so.” Now Yuuta was shaking his head but Fuji went on. He had to voice the thoughts as they came to him because he might not get another chance. “I love you, Yuuta, in ways that a brother never should.” Yuuta tried to cut him off again but he wouldn’t have it. “But it doesn’t matter! I realize that, and that’s why I can’t accept what happened last night. It can’t matter. No matter how I feel, you are my brother, and it’s my duty to remember that.”

*

“You keep trying to blame yourself,” Yuuta sighed.

He was completely confused. Ever since he had chosen to pursue tennis, he had seen his brother as an enemy, an obstacle to be conquered. Once he had started to become aware of his growing attraction to his loved and hated older brother, he had acted rashly and forced last night’s confrontation to end the confusion within himself. He hadn’t thought of Syusuke at all—that was just how he had always been. Syusuke—the tensai—didn’t need his consideration. Syusuke was perfect, wasn’t he?

In a just a few moments last night, Yuuta’s world had come crashing down. He’d realized that he was wrong, that Syusuke was far from perfect, and that he himself should never have been so selfish. He’d realized the pressure he’d put on Syusuke and even figured out that throwing the ball into his brother’s court was his way of casting off the blame. Suddenly, for the first time in years, he didn’t want Syusuke to be at fault. He realized his own mistakes, and he wanted to correct them but Syusuke wasn’t letting him.

He knew what he had to say now and he looked up with determination. “I know this is wrong and I’m only just starting to realize that my own feelings are a lot deeper than what I thought at first, but… I’ve been pushing you away for so long that I can’t just let this go. I can’t pretend I didn’t enjoy touching you, or kissing you, and I can’t pretend I don’t want to now! Aniki… Syusuke… This isn’t fair, is it?” He was doing it again. “You’re trying so hard and I just keep pushing and pushing, and…” He took a deep breath. He couldn’t look his brother in the eyes. “I don’t want to leave tonight and keep running further away. I can’t just let it go, and yet… I can’t force you into a corner, either. I don’t have anywhere to go from here, except to say that… I don’t care. So what if you’re my brother? It doesn’t mean anything except that we’re naturally closer to each other than anyone else.”

“That isn’t right,” Syusuke cut in. “You know it’s not.”

“It doesn’t matter!” Yuuta insisted. “You say you don’t see me as a brother and yet you still love me-”

“And I’m very, very wrong for it, Yuuta-”

“No, you’re not! If I wasn’t… If I wasn’t your brother… You wouldn’t feel this way,” he said, with so much certainty that Syusuke’s impending argument froze on his tongue.

“What do you mean?” the tensai asked, slightly bewildered.

“You are what you are and I’ve resented that ever since I was a kid. I wanted to be the special one for once but you were always better at everything. I’m a selfish brat. I always have been. That’s why you keep trying so hard to prove yourself to me. Because I’m your brother—and I’m the one who’s been a terrible brother! It’s because of that that you want to be closer to me. I know I’m right! It’s because we grew up chasing each other in tragic circles like this that you… say you love me.” Syusuke stared at him open-mouthed and Yuuta blushed, realizing that he’d made a lot of assumptions. “I-it’s just that… If we weren’t brothers, you probably wouldn’t even look at me twice, so…” Damn it! “I don’t fucking care! That ‘brothers’ crap doesn’t mean anything if I’m just going to spend my whole life avoiding and trying to beat you!”

*

Incredible. Terrifying.

Why did Yuuta have to be so right? Why did Fuji have to feel so protective of him? Why could he not resist wanting to comfort that pain and confusion, even if the only way he could do so was to dive into the very pits of hell?

After all, what was a brother? So they were born to the same parents… What did that matter in the end? They were hardly about to go off sprouting defective children…

Damn it! Inbreeding was dangerous for a reason! Once couldn’t simply go about ignoring the laws of nature! He and Yuuta couldn’t be together. It was that simple.

Hell, Fuji didn’t even know if that was what he really wanted. Maybe he was just enticed by what he couldn’t have, like Yuuta said… and Yuuta was so young… How much of this was out of genuine affection and how much was a psychological trick on his young, naïve mind? The same could not, of course, apply to himself, tensai that he was.

Fuji thought he might be trembling but he couldn’t stop it. He felt like he was losing his mind because he couldn’t quite figure out why it was wrong to want what he did. He so hoped to find a loop hole…

“Please,” he whispered. “You have to help me, Yuuta. I can’t stay strong anymore.”

*

Yuuta heard his brother’s plea. He had been seconds from just grabbing Syusuke and kissing him but the desperate words called a halt to his plans.

Two reactions kicked in simultaneously, freezing him to the spot. The first was to run, just as he had last night. The second was to rage at himself internally, once more, for trying to force Syusuke to make a move.

Suddenly feeling a little faint, he licked his dry lips. The words left his mouth before he could think them over. 

“Whose sake are you resisting for?” he asked. The question seemed so important at that moment.

“Yours… of course,” Syusuke replied, and his expression was so innocent it tore at Yuuta’s heart.

How could he have been so cruel as to try and cut his aniki out of his life? And for what? Tennis?

“You don’t have to,” he said, taking a step closer. “If I take all the pressure off you and say that I want this so badly it hurts… If I told you that there’s nothing to consider because I can handle myself… What then?”

Syusuke closed his eyes slowly, looking for all the world like he was about to make the painful decision of pulling the plug on a dying patient’s life support…

“Can’t you resist… for me?” he pleaded. “Just because you don’t regret it now doesn’t mean you won’t later.”

“I’m not as strong as you, Syusuke,” Yuuta admitted, and it was the one time in his life that he didn’t bitterly regret the fact. “I can’t deny what I feel to protect you. I’m not as selfless.”

“I’m not selfless.” 

Syusuke’s eyes opened, and they were crisp, blue slits. 

Tense and afraid, wondering if Syusuke was going to push him away at any moment, Yuuta wound his arms around his brother’s neck and reached for those forbidden lips. He stared into those beautiful, dangerous blue eyes. It was almost as if Syusuke were suddenly a different person.

It all happened so fast after that. Their lips connected in a deep and passionate kiss and Yuuta found himself pinned under Syusuke only moments later, arching up into his brother’s body with a soft mattress inexplicably beneath them.

Despite his earlier conviction, he argued with himself all the way—but soon enough, he found himself devoid of clothing and Syusuke was kissing him senseless as one unaccountably slick finger probed at his entrance… Yuuta suddenly forgot to continue the debate in his mind when he realized Syusuke was about to find out he wasn’t a virgin. 

He winced, but not in pain. Syusuke’s eyes narrowed. 

“Mizuki’s a dead man,” he hissed.

Damn but he was good!

“Just shut up and get on with it,” Yuuta grumbled.

Mizuki was the last thing he wanted to talk about with Syusuke’s finger worming its way inside of him. He licked his lips and sighed, wiggling a little to urge his brother on.

Syusuke didn’t argue—for now. He pushed the limits a little, adding a second finger, sliding, twisting, scissoring the two…

Yuuta moaned softly. This was what he’d been thinking about for weeks, if not months. He wasn’t sure when he had started craving his brother sexually, but by the time he figured out it wasn’t just a one-off thing—an out of place image as he came to his own hand, or the wrong name on his lips while Mizuki’s were wrapped around his cock… By the time he realized he wanted his own brother, he couldn’t stop thinking about this moment.

He wasn’t given much to regret as three fingers withdrew from him. Syusuke was very gentle, and very adept. Yuuta hadn’t lost a hint of his erection. In fact, he was now painfully hard.

Stalling for time, Syusuke stroked Yuuta’s entrance with his thumb. His eyes were closed, and he seemed to be holding his breath.

“Are you sure?” he asked, after an extended pause.

“I’m sure,” Yuuta moaned. He waited for Syusuke to look him in the eyes. “Fuck me.”

He could almost see the last thread of restraint snap as Syusuke let out the held breath along with a soft groan.

“Aniki,” Yuuta gasped, the reaction involuntary as the head of his brother’s cock pressed against and then into his ass. He forced himself to relax and breathe but Syusuke had prepped him well and slowly but surely filled him, causing none but the most minor of discomfort.

*

When he thought about it later, Fuji thought of what happened as the re-routing of his brain. He simply lost the ability to maintain self control. 

Yuuta wanted him. Yuuta wanted him, and the more he resisted, the more he wanted Yuuta—until finally he could no longer maintain resistance.

It was as though the longing and the need to stand firm could not exist at equal levels, and when longing threatened to become the dominant power, Fuji just gave in for fear of going insane.

That was how he ended up slowly burying himself inside his brother’s ass. He was in heaven. Yuuta was so tight and hot, and it wasn’t as if Fuji had slept with a great many people. In fact, this was only his second time on top.

He was trembling and had acquired a light sheen of sweat by the time his balls touched Yuuta’s ass cheeks. He stayed there for a short while, taking deep, calming breaths and allowing Yuuta to adjust.

Apparently, Yuuta didn’t need long. Strong, athletic legs wrapped around Fuji’s waist and he found himself forced in just that little bit deeper, groaning. 

“Please,” Yuuta begged. “Please, I need this.”

Fuji’s body responded directly to the plea and he began to move, his cock caressed by the tightness of Yuuta’s ass as he pulled back and then drove back in; slowly, at first, but not for long. Their bodies moved together so well, the legs around him forcing Fuji deeper, harder, and faster, until he was braced on his forearms, his breath huffing into Yuuta’s hair, his cock working quickly and deeply into his brother. His hips were in constant motion, his thighs working to drive him constantly deeper.

He was so caught up in the action, the exquisite friction, the moans and whimpers from his brother, the sensation of pleasure building within him… his orgasm almost caught him by surprise.

“Yuuta!” he moaned at the last second. “I’m coming!”

Yuuta clamped down around him in answer, his body shuddering as he beat Fuji to the punch, moaning, “Aniki!”

“I love you!” Fuji cried, almost begging forgiveness with the words as the release shuddered through his whole body.

*

Yuuta lay there, sweat-soaked and breathless. The weight of his larger but more delicate aniki was oddly comfortable to him. His fingers trailed unconsciously through his brother’s hair.

He was conflicted. He wanted to say something but he was also content to just lay there with Syusuke, pretending that nothing was wrong. He didn’t want to break the moment.

He was now certain of the feelings that had surfaced in the last twenty-four hours. He wasn’t attracted to Syusuke… It wasn’t that he loved his aniki… He was ‘in’ love. It was the fact that he never wanted to move, the fact that he was almost terrified of the moment when Syusuke would retreat from his body… That was what gave it away.

But Syusuke didn’t move. He didn’t speak, either.

If Yuuta hadn’t felt the tension in his brother’s body, he would have thought Syusuke asleep. Nervously, he licked his lips, his breath finally under control.

“Aniki?” he prompted quietly. No response. “Syusuke?”

Shit.

“Don’t,” he whispered. “Don’t retreat. Don’t flee from me.”

A deep, shuddering breath but no tears falling on his skin. Syusuke’s face was tucked between Yuuta’s neck and shoulder.

“I love you,” he offered. 

Finally, Syusuke moved, lifting himself up and beginning to withdraw. Desperately, Yuuta tightened the hold of his legs.

“Syusuke, please…”

“Yuuta.” The flat, dead warning tone shut Yuuta up. “Don’t make this worse.”

Now it was Yuuta who wanted to cry, for so many reasons. Syusuke sounded so despondent… and that was all Yuuta’s fault. He’d seduced his brother, yet again, and even if it wasn’t completely against Syusuke’s will, it wasn’t fair that he was the one who would suffer of guilt. Yuuta had expected his aniki to want to take care of him when all was said and done, to be there for him… He was hurt by the coldness he was suddenly receiving even though he knew he deserved it. Worse than being hurt, however… He was worried. Syusuke sounded so… flat, so lifeless…

Slowly, Yuuta let his brother go, almost whimpering as the tensai’s spent cock slipped from his body. He felt empty and more alone than he ever had done in his life.

What had he done? Why did he always have to go too far? If he was lucky, his brother would hate him. If he wasn’t… Syusuke sounded like he was about to give up on far more than the fragile thing that was their relationship. 

He grabbed Syusuke’s wrist before his brother could make it off the bed and held on for dear life, saying nothing. He had nothing to say.

Eventually, Syusuke responded to the slight tugs and slumped down onto the bed, curling up on his side, his back to Yuuta.

“Go to sleep,” he whispered.

*

As Fuji closed his eyes, he clenched his jaw. He didn’t want to think about what he’d just done. He refused to think about it… but even as he forced himself into sleep, his heart clenched painfully.

He very much wished that Yuuta wouldn’t stay beside him all night. He didn’t think he could handle waking up beside his brother in the morning, covered in sweat and semen.


	4. Chapter 4

Yuuta was willing to accept that he had been very foolish. So, despite how painful it was to lie beside his aniki all night, watching that oh so still body, he refused to leave Syusuke alone.

He’d already skipped one day of school but he didn’t much care about that right now. He had a horrible fear that Syusuke had lain down and would simply refuse to get back up again, so he stuck it out, sleeping very little all night and barely moving an inch.

He was highly uncomfortable, what with the semen drying inside of him and on his belly but he didn’t dare even wipe it away. If he moved, Syusuke might break.

He must have dropped off from sheer exhaustion. He was alone in the bed when he woke up in the morning. His aniki should have been at morning practice by then, so that wasn’t too unusual.

There was no note left for him, no message with their sister—who was very mad at Yuuta for skipping school—and no hint anywhere of what had occurred last night. It was almost as if the world planned to go about its business as usual.

And it probably did.

*

Not quite. Why? Because Fuji, Syusuke was a living train wreck.

Given one word to describe him that morning, ten out of ten people would have used the word “blank.” 

He rose from the bed, expressionless, and never looked back at his sleeping brother once. He showered, dressed, collected his things, and then set off to morning practice. 

Until the moment he reached the school gates—very early—he wore nothing but a passive mask, and thought nothing but that he did not want to think. Then, his smile clicked automatically into place, and he continued on.

It was very early. Very, very early. Tezuka would be practicing.

The captain had no idea what hit him. He was dragged into the locker rooms, unresisting, only because he was waiting to hear why Fuji was there so early. As the door slammed behind them, he was shoved up against the wall, and kissed, hard, by a rather aggressive tensai.

Fuji only relaxed when he felt warm lips under his own that did not belong to his brother. He only released the strangle-hold on his mind when he felt a body that was not Yuuta’s pressed against his own. His hands slid up into shaggy hair that was long enough to really run his fingers through, and he used that sensation to over-write the memory of short, bristly strands. In a way, he planned to use Tezuka to re-write what had happened with Yuuta the night before.

Shocked and confused, Tezuka actually kissed him back for a few seconds before beginning to struggle and push Fuji away. When he succeeded, he ran his own hand through his hair as if to shake the lingering sensation. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Tezuka snapped.

Fuji growled. He overcame the one hand feebly attempting to hold him off and pushed Tezuka back up against the wall.

“There is so much wrong with me that you can’t possibly even imagine,” he snarled, his aggression aimed more at himself than at Tezuka.

Tezuka didn’t struggle again but he shook his head weakly. “What’s gotten into you?” he asked quietly. “Fuji, what are you doing?”

“I don’t know!” Fuji snapped. “Tezuka, please don’t push me away,” he begged suddenly. He wasn’t sure if he was really that desperate, or if he was changing tactics, or if he really wanted the captain as much as he had wanted Yuuta last night. He wasn’t sure of anything.

Tezuka moved, and Fuji strengthened his hold, but gentle fingers took a stray stand of hair between them, causing Fuji to cringe at the sheer sweetness of the gesture. The tension drained out of his arms until he felt more like he was leaning on Tezuka than pinning him.

“Talk to me,” Tezuka whispered. “I’ll listen.”

“I don’t want to talk.” Fuji shook his head. He wouldn’t—couldn’t relate what had happened last night.

“No,” Tezuka breathed. “You just want to use me.”

Fuji almost made to argue that but he couldn’t. After several seconds, he looked down, unable to meet Tezuka’s eyes.

“Would it help?” Tezuka asked, his hand sliding into Fuji’s hair, playing with it. “Would it make the problems go away?”

Slowly, Fuji raised his eyes. Tezuka was staring back at him so seriously. The least he could do was answer honestly.

“I don’t know. For all I know, it could make everything so much worse but… right now… I need it.” He corrected himself with a truth he was willing to flirt with. “I need you.”

Somehow, Tezuka took his keys from his pocket, one hand still wound into Fuji’s hair. He shuffled Fuji backwards and leaned out to lock the door, and then the keys were gone again and both his hands were on Fuji’s face. The tensai melted into the kiss, full of both relief and guilt, though he smothered the latter for the time being.

*

Tezuka really didn’t know what he was thinking. He didn’t know what was going on behind the scenes. He knew something was badly wrong with Fuji somewhere outside of school—probably at home—but he didn’t know what, or how else to deal with it, other than to give the tensai what he wanted.

If Fuji wanted to have sex with him to forget whatever was so very messed up… Well, Tezuka wasn’t exactly sure what he thought about that. It certainly didn’t bode well and it hurt like hell to be used like this but on the other hand, if Fuji wouldn’t talk, then what else could Tezuka do other than stand aside and watch his tensai sink into misery?

Maybe Fuji would talk to him afterwards. Maybe he could prove that he could be trusted with whatever Fuji was hiding. Maybe he could make this a little more than meaningless.

Maybe not—but he wouldn’t know until he tried.

Fuji kissed like the devil. Every moment was both sinful and delicious and every touch of tongues, lips, teeth, hands, bodies… everything drove Tezuka into the wildest, dizziest, most desperate state of arousal he had ever experienced. 

He was too far gone to question why Fuji had packed lubricant in his school bag and he couldn’t think clearly enough to argue too much when Fuji begged him to skip the prep anyway and just take him. So he spread a generous coating of lube on his aching erection, and then ran his hands over Fuji’s ass.

The tensai was bent over, his hands braced against the bench, and Tezuka took a moment just to look at him. Fuji’s hair fell over his face but Tezuka knew he was flushed, and could see the rise and fall of Fuji’s body as he breathed deeply and raggedly. He slowly ran one hand over Fuji’s hip, and then around, caressing the dripping, solid arousal hanging there.

“Tezuka,” Fuji moaned, arching into his hand.

Unable to wait any longer, Tezuka place both hands squarely back on Fuji’s ass and then spread the cheeks with his thumbs. He shifted until his cock pressed against the tensai’s entrance, then took a small, calm breath before guiding his length with one hand and pushing inside.

His vision almost greyed at the effort it took to maintain his neutral expression whilst he sank into the hot, tight body of the boy he’d wanted since he’d discovered his hormones. All that kept him from losing control was the fear that he would hurt Fuji but the tensai slowly rolled back to take him in further, and Tezuka had to close his eyes to stop them from rolling back into his head.

He stopped, roughly three quarters of the way in, pulled back a little, and then thrust in all the way. His risk was well rewarded with a beautiful cry of pleasure from Fuji, who threw back his head.

The tensai’s arms were trembling and Tezuka suspected he would see curling toes if he could just tears his gaze from what little he could see of Fuji’s blissful expression. They couldn’t maintain this for long.

Together, they sunk to their knees, Fuji resting his cheek against the bench as he panted heavily. Tezuka tightened his grip on Fuji’s hips and began to thrust.

*

Fuji liked to be on the bottom. He loved the feeling of being owned and dominated as someone took him roughly from behind. It was like punishment and reward for his sins, all in one.

He liked it when it was gentle and pleasant but more than anything else, he loved it when it hurt. It was a wonderful way to punish himself for everything he’d ever done wrong in his life. Besides, the pain had become a pleasure of its own. The perfect balance of pain and pleasure was exactly what he needed, and Tezuka was exactly the right person to give that to him.

Somehow, Tezuka just seemed to know what he needed, and every thrust, every caress, wiped Fuji’s conscience and memory clean for the time being. He could hardly think of anything else with Tezuka pounding him so wonderfully. It wasn’t really ‘rough sex’ per se but it was enough to send him over the edge, clawing at the wildly rocking bench to keep from toppling over.

*

Tezuka came harder than he ever had in his life, gripping Fuji’s hips as he jerked and trembled. He silently mouthed the tensai’s name, responding to the screamed sound of his own name as Fuji’s orgasm hit first.

He knew no-one would be in the vicinity yet but even if they were, he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything but the fact that he had just had the most incredible sexual experience of his young life.

Shakily, he pulled out of Fuji, then flopped onto his ass. Who was worried about looking graceful when they were so brilliantly spent?

Tezuka smiled almost goofily as Fuji snuggled up to him on the hard, dirty floor, their sweaty skin slipping and sliding. He held the tensai loosely, pressing a fond kiss to shaggy brown hair.

“Thank you,” Fuji whispered. “I don’t know what else to say.”

“Tell me what happened,” Tezuka urged, knowing he was pushing his luck but unable to resist, given the opening.

Fuji was silent for a few seconds. “I don’t want you to despise me.”

“I won’t,” Tezuka promised, wondering what could possibly be so bad. “…If you tell me, I’ll tell you a secret. One that means I could never think badly of you.”

“Tell me first,” Fuji bargained, and Tezuka was relieved to hear the sneaky undertone in his muffled voice.

Tezuka looked down at the incredible boy in his arms. Fuji’s mouth was covered by the arm thrown around Tezuka’s neck, and the tensai’s eyes stared a little distantly at the far wall. He looked beautiful. He always looked beautiful.

“I love you.”

*

Fuji cringed. Why, oh why, hadn’t he expected that? 

“Tezuka...”

“Don’t say anything,” Tezuka warned him quietly. “Not about that. I told you my secret, now it’s your turn.”

“I’m so sorry,” Fuji whispered, realizing that he’d made ‘big mistake #2’ by trying to use Tezuka to void his first screw up. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Tezuka didn’t reply. Letting out the breath, Fuji slowly opened his eyes again. “This isn’t going to be easy to hear.”

“Fuji… As curious as I am, I really just want to help you with whatever is hurting you so much. Please, tell me,” Tezuka implored, his arms tightening fractionally.

Fuji mused that he was probably the most selfish, heartless bastard in all the world. “I slept with Yuuta last night,” he admitted quietly, and a little too casually.

Truthfully, he expected the Earth to shake apart and acid to spit down from the heavens. None of that happened.

“I see.”

When it became apparent that Tezuka didn’t intend to say more, Fuji moved back to stare at him incredulously. He laughed derisively as he said, “I tell you I fucked my brother, and all you have to say is ‘I see’?”

Tezuka continued to stare at the far wall, pulling Fuji back against him as if unwilling to give up the closeness they’d achieved while it still lasted. 

“What should I say?” Now Tezuka looked down at him and Fuji settled more firmly against his chest, his hand resting lightly on the captain’s shoulder. “Was it mutual?” he asked.

“Of course!” Fuji protested.

“Well then.” Tezuka shrugged. “I don’t need to tell you it’s wrong. You obviously know that. I can’t pretend to understand… Do you expect me to angry?”

“Yes,” Fuji whispered sullenly. “Why aren’t you angry?”

“It’s not my place to be angry, Fuji,” Tezuka replied quietly. “I’m shocked, and hurt—I can’t help that—but I think what you want is for Yuuta to be angry and justify your guilt.”

Fuji was simply astounded by the instant analytical capabilities Tezuka possessed. No wonder the captain was so phenomenal at tennis. Fuji hadn’t even come to that conclusion yet, and he was the tensai.

“What should I do?” Fuji all but whimpered, practically clinging to Tezuka in the fear that there was nothing he could do at all.

“Do you love him?” Tezuka asked after a moment. Fuji could hear in his voice how hard that question was for him.

“I don’t know. I don’t know anything. I’m so confused, or else I wouldn’t have… done what I did last night.” Fuji took a deep breath, smothering his face in Tezuka’s chest. “He’s my brother. I’ve always loved him but… either that love has changed so subtly I never noticed, or I really don’t feel any different than before—which frightens me. Tezuka, I don’t know how long I’ve wanted him like this. For all I know, I always have.”

“I… don’t have any answers for you,” Tezuka admitted sadly. “I wish I did, but all I can say is that…” He paused, seeming to re-organize his thoughts. “What I want doesn’t matter. If it did, I wouldn’t have done this with you. I did it for your sake, because I want to do anything I can to make you happy, whether it’s right or wrong.”

“So you’re saying that if I really love Yuuta, I should put aside my own doubts and fears and leave the final decision up to him—whatever that may be.” Oh, it was such an easy out, and it made sense, too.

“Essentially, yes.”

The tension in Tezuka’s body reminded Fuji that maybe it wasn’t so easy after all. No, it wasn’t easy at all to sacrifice your opinion, morals, peace of mind, and pride for the one you loved.

Slowly, Fuji raised his head. He looked into Tezuka’s eyes, then softly pressed his lips against the captain’s in a gentle, lingering kiss. It was the best ‘thank you’ he could give.

“How do you feel?” Tezuka asked, once Fuji finally pulled back.

“Like I just hurt the kind of true friend I never knew I had,” Fuji replied, smiling sadly.

“I meant physically.” Thank goodness Tezuka sounded amused or Fuji might have cried.

“I’ll be fine,” he said.


	5. Chapter 5

It was dark by the time Mizuki returned from the tennis courts. His intention to pick up a set of cards and then join the rest of the team for dinner was disrupted when he walked into a dark room and the lights refused to respond to his command.

He walked right into Fuji, Sysuke’s clutches.

Sharp pain shot up his side as his hip slammed into the floor. Meanwhile, Fuji’s grip on his wrist was so tight it burned. He trembled beneath the tensai whose fierce blue gaze—black in the darkness—was reserved solely for him at that moment.

“He came on to me!”

There was no change in Fuji’s expression that he could see but the knee threatening Mizuki’s groin took on a slightly more crushing pressure.

“I know we’re both guys and I know you don’t like me much but I care about Yuuta, ok? What’s between him and me is our business, not yours!”

“Brave words,” murmured a voice terrifying in its capacity for both warmth and cold.

Mizuki swallowed and chose, perhaps stupidly, to accept the comment as praise. The confidence he gained from it encouraged him to make a potentially even stupider choice. “Yuuta made his choice to come here and join our team—and he made his choice to be with me. If you care about your brother, you’ll let him live his own life without your meddling and confusing him.”

“Hm?” The danger certainly didn’t pass but there was a shift in the air. “Did Yuuta tell you…?”

“He didn’t have to,” Mizuki breathed, knowing he was on thin ice. He could easily imagine the older Fuji brother “silencing” him to keep his sordid secrets. “Information gathering is my specialty… but it just so happens that it’s unnecessary when it comes to Yuuta. I can read him like a book. I know everything.”

Mizuki held his breath partly in anticipation and partly in fear as the tensai’s lips almost brushed his own, parting to speak. “Then I’ll let you in on one more secret… I’ve decided: Yuuta is mine. Don’t touch him again.”

In moments, Fuji was gone, and Mizuki lay on the cold floor in the dark, waiting for his galloping heartbeat to recede.

*

Yuuta barely managed to get a word out to his room-mates as they rushed past him away from the dorm with pillows and blankets in hand. Was someone breaking house rules to throw a sleepover party again? Maybe he should…

No. He wasn’t interested in socializing. His sister had bullied him into returning to St. Rudolf and set measures so that he wouldn’t be able to sneak back home so easily but Syusuke wasn’t replying to his messages. Syusuke was already gone when he woke up in the morning so the last he had seen of his brother was a rigid back and an overwhelming aura of self-recrimination.

Maybe Syusuke would answer his call this time…

Head bowed over his phone in search of the number, Yuuta was completely unprepared for the ambush that greeted him when he reached his room. He dropped his phone in shock and struggled briefly as he was shoved up against the closed door but the scent and feel of his brother reached him moments later and without thinking, he relaxed into the kiss.

Among his few thoughts was the acknowledgement that Syusuke was moving fast; stroking, petting, kissing, and licking. Yuuta barely noticed his clothes fall away but he was fully aware of the skin-to-skin contact that sent his temperature soaring.

This was what it was supposed to be like—none of the doubts, arguments, and apologies they had been circling around. No room for guilt. As long as…

As long as Syusuke didn’t…

Did he really just push Syusuke away?

“Yuuta, what-?”

“I don’t care why you’re here. I want to just enjoy this change of heart and not have to think about the consequences but… Aniki…”

“Have you changed your mind?”

When Syusuke sounded so strong and confident, that was when he was the most brittle. Yuuta no longer needed proof of his brother’s feelings for him but the affirmation that Syusuke cared so much he put everything on the line… It meant so much.

“No. I love you. I’m just a stupid brat and I don’t deserve you at all but I want you and, right now, I have you. I couldn’t ask for anything more. It’s just… If we do this… And then you… Last night… I can’t stand to see you like that again.”

He’d said he wasn’t strong enough to put his brother first but he was wrong. Even as he spoke, he could hardly recognize himself. Then again, maybe he had selfish reasons after all. Maybe not wanting to see Syusuke hurt was more about not feeling guilty for that hurt than it was for the pain his brother went through…

“I promise you… I won’t turn away from you again. I’m so sorry, Yuuta. I was so caught up in my own guilt I never stopped to consider how that must have hurt you. Please forgive me.” How could Yuuta do otherwise with Syusuke’s kind eyes and gentle hands softening his everything thought and feeling? “Yuuta. I want you to take me.”

Had he ever thought to hear those words?

*

He hadn’t known he was going to say it until the words were out of his mouth. Not once, in all of his momentary imaginings, dreams, and rare, sinful fantasies, had he ever considered a scenario where it was Yuuta on top.

Even so, he knew that was the way it had to be. He could take any amount of physical pain and perhaps he even longed for some as punishment but he couldn’t handle inflicting any kind of hurt on Yuuta.

With Tezuka, it had been rough but passionate. The captain knew Fuji’s capabilities, knew his limits and his lengths, and treated him accordingly. Yuuta, though, was shy and skittish.

Obviously, he had never taken another boy before and his overprotective concern was quite charming. Fuji was patient, letting Yuuta delve and explore with slickened fingers, until there was little doubt that Fuji was as well-prepared as he ever would be.

Still, Yuuta would have hesitated, but Fuji took his little brother’s cheeks in his hands, kissed him, and then stared into those sweet blue eyes as he spoke. “I’m far less fragile than you’re imagining. Anything you can take, I can take double.” He let the challenge linger for a moment before diffusing it with an explanation. “What we did last night was mild. I promise you, you won’t hurt me with that as a guide.”

It was very different, though. Looking up as his brother rose over him, exhaling as his was breached by a boy with a smaller frame yet a girth larger than his own, arching his back and surrendering to kisses rained down upon his neck and shoulders and Yuuta moved within him… It was a wholly new experience for Fuji.

Apparently it was a little too new for Yuuta.

“I’m sorry!” Yuuta gushed, trembling and sweating. He nearly crushed Fuji with his rigid embrace as he came hard and suddenly, and then he melted and the pressure relented.

Fuji took several slow breaths, stroking Yuuta’s hair and letting the ecstasy pass. He was still aching.

“I don’t mind,” he whispered, startled to find that it was true.

This wasn’t about him. His own gratification meant little to him in this encounter. This was about Yuuta; about affirming what they were to each other. Of course, Yuuta didn’t see it that way.

“This is so embarrassing,” he groaned, refusing to raise his face and meet Fuji’s eyes.

“You don’t ever have to be embarrassed with me,” Fuji told him. He forced his fingers under Yuuta’s chin and raised his brother’s face by force. “You do the same to me. I just have more practice in denying it.” His abs protested as he rolled to a semi-seated position, tugging Yuuta closer until their tongues could tangle in a wet, messy kiss that did nothing to flatten his sore, stiff length.

Thankfully, Yuuta had some idea of what to do about that now that his confidence was somewhat replenished. Fuji groaned and crashed back to a prone position as his cock was swallowed down his brother’s throat.

How the hell was he so good at that? Running his palm over his eyes in denial, Fuij refused to consider thanking Mizuki and focused instead on how incredibly hot it was to peek through his fingers and see his cock disappear between Yuuta’s lips.

Yet again, his orgasm came suddenly, brought on by the combination of utter indecency and an overwhelming attraction to the body currently pincer-gripped between his spasming thighs. As it passed, he closed his eyes and let himself enjoy the pleasant wash of release for the first time.

“Yuuta,” he breathed, feeling warmed as his brother’s breath puffed against his neck and an athletic arm circled his chest.

He returned the embrace and just for a moment, Fuji tightened his hold on Yuuta to better feel the shape of his brother’s body and the supple muscles and soft skin contacting his own. This was how it was meant to be.

“Sis made me come back to school but I wanted to stay in Tokyo,” Yuuta told him suddenly. “You were so distant last night. I was worried.”

“I’m ok, now,” Fuji promised, raising Yuuta’s hand to his lips and pressing a tender kiss to the knuckles.

“Why? I mean, I’m really, really glad but… what happened?”

Fuji sighed. From one problem to the next… Yuuta wasn’t going to like the truth but it wasn’t something he could hide if they were going to… to what? Date? Become boyfriends? …To be lovers.

“Tezuka helped me understand that my doubts meant nothing if this is what you want,” he explained.

“…Tezuka? …TEZUKA!?” Yuuta shot upright and stared down at Fuji with an expression rife with shock. “You didn’t…? Of course you didn’t.” He laughed suddenly. “For a second I thought you meant you actually talked about this with him.”

“Yuuta… ”

“No way! What could you possibly have said to him? ‘Hey, Tezuka, I screwed my brother. Think that’s ok?’”

“Yuuta… It wasn’t like that.” Fuji grabbed his brother and pulled him back down to the mattress, forcing him into a comfortably relaxed pose before saying anything more. “Even now, I’m surprised,” he admitted. “I never thought he was capable of the things he said and did over the last two days. Tezuka recognized that I was… troubled, and he put his own feelings on the line to help me.”

“What do you-?”

“Shhh. Things between us are already so complicated, Yuuta, so I won’t lie to you. Tezuka is in love with me… and I used him. I hated myself for what I did to you. I wanted to re-write it, as if sleeping with Tezuka could somehow undo what I did with you. He knew the whole time that he was just a decoy but he gave me what I wanted.”

“I’m gonna chop off his-”

“So I told him. I told him everything.”

“…What did he say?”

The memory of Tezuka’s calm acceptance and martyrdom brought tears to Fuji’s eyes but they remained unshed. How could he ever repay the kindness that had been shown to him? “I know it wasn’t easy for him. He told me he loved me… and I told him I love my own brother instead. He didn’t judge me or say a single word of reprimand. He said… He said it didn’t matter how much pain it caused him to be with me like that, only that it was what I needed.”

Yuuta scoffed. “As if he didn’t enjoy it…”

“Of course he did… Just as I enjoyed being with you just now.” He shouldn’t have said that.

Yuuta stiffened in his arms. “Are you saying being with me hurts?”

A deliberate pause allowed Fuji to consider his words carefully, both for what they would mean to his brother, and what they meant to himself. “I’m saying I can live with it if you can’t live without it.”

Yuuta was quiet for a long time. When he finally spoke, it was in a subdued tone. “I don’t like that you screwed Tezuka. If you ask me, there’s an argument to be made that he was the one using you. I don’t know if I hate him or if I feel sorry for him.”

“I love you, Yuuta. You know I mean that as more than just brothers... but Tezuka is my friend and my captain and his support, even in this, means more to me than you can imagine.” It was true. Fuji could count his close friends on one hand and they were all third year regulars on the tennis team. In some ways, Echizen had come close to breaching those ranks but it was more a friendship born of respect than closeness.

Taka-san—Fuji’s first—and Eiji—who had come to Fuji for sexual advice when courting Oishi and fooled around a bit—were the two Fuji had always felt closest to. His friendship with Inui was less influenced by physicality but just as evident. However, Tezuka had always been the only one Fuji strived to impress. He longed for Tezuka’s praise and acceptance in ways that no other’s opinion could matter to him.

That only made Tezuka’s actions and his handling of the situation all-the-more remarkable to Fuji. He was very lucky, indeed, to have a friend like Tezuka, and perhaps more than that…

Yuuta knew him well enough to let the wheels turn and identify the moment Fuji was back in contact with his immediate surroundings. His patience did not translate to acceptance, however.

“What if he tells someone?” he asked with a challenging bite, as if the idea had never occurred to Fuji.

“He won’t.”

“How do you know that?”

“He wouldn’t do that to me.”

The punch in the arm came as a surprise, letting on to Yuuta’s growing jealousy at the explicit trust Fuji showed in his captain.

“What if he decides he’d have a shot at you with me out of the way?” Yuuta challenged, trying to sit up again but foiled as Fuji’s hold on him tightened.

Once more, Fuji waited for his brother to settle. “He won’t…” he explained. Then, he took a breath and broached an idea he had barely formed. “Because he already has me. Do you understand?”

Yuuta exploded into motion, struggling to free himself; but Fuji was ready for him and held firm.

“No! No, I don’t! Not even a little!”

Fuji pinned his brother down and levered himself up, looking down at the boy he’d known and loved for almost all of his life. “Yuuta, I already miss you every moment you’re away from home. Now I’m going to go crazy just thinking about it.”

“Deal with it!”

“If it was just that…” Fuji shook his head, voicing his thoughts as they clarified in his own mind. “I owe him,” he said softly, even as he recognized that there was more to it. “And the truth is, I do have feelings for him. They’re not the same—not as deep, not as urgent—but they are there. I can’t change that. If Tezuka can accept you and me, can’t you-”

“No!” The denial came with a shove, and Fuji almost lost his balance but he held on.

“Yuuta, we can never be together officially. We can go on dates and pretend we’re just brothers hanging out but I can’t kiss you in public or say out loud how I feel. It’s not going to be easy for either of us. People need those kinds of relationships.”

“What does any of that matter as long as you can be with the person you love?”

“People will have expectations of us. If we appear to stay single for all of our lives… maybe they won’t figure out the truth but they’ll know there’s something wrong with us. One day, you’ll want kids and a family, and-”

“What are you talking about? Is that what you want? A wife and kids, and-”

“I want you. Only you. But to have you, I have to show the world something different. I won’t have kids or a wife but you will. I know you will. So… if the world can see me and Tezuka… It doesn’t matter what they think of that as long as they never know that the love of my life is here with me in this bed right now.”

“Fine. Then I’ll-”

“If Mizuki touches you, I will kill him.”

“What kind of a double standard is that?”

“If we were talking about someone like Tezuka who loved you deeply and wanted nothing more than to protect you and see you happy, of course I would strangle my jealousy. Since we’re talking about Mizuki, I swear to you that I will strangle him, instead.”

“Mizuki’s not as bad as you want to believe…”

“He’s not-”

“Tezuka. Yeah, I get it.”

Fuji pinned his brother with a stare, letting the stupidity of that comment sink home. “He’s not worthy of you.”

Yuuta wasn’t done sulking. “Who is then? Aside from Tezuka, that is. If you had it your way, the answer would be no-one. Too bad Tezuka’s already taken, I guess…” Fuji just let the rant run itself out of gas. He understood how Yuuta viewed Mizuki and how his forbidding that relationship might seem to his brother. Such an immature reaction was practically guaranteed. When Yuuta’s tone changed, Fuji tuned back in, glad to hear his brother calmer and moving on from the issue of Mizuki… and Tezuka. “What do you think it would have been like if I’d stayed at Seigaku with you?”

“You would be a second year now, along with Momoshiro and Kaidou. Their rivalry would have driven you almost as mad as chasing after me in the ranking matches.” A realization hit Fuji with disarming force. “You would hate me,” he said. “Truly hate me.”

Without the separation that had kept them as symbols to each other, they would have grown so very differently over the last year. Fuji would still love Yuuta but it would be a smothering obsession the only pushed Yuuta farther and farther away from him. Yuuta would have grown bitter with frustration and whatever feelings he had come to acknowledge now, he would have choked on them instead. He hated to admit it, but coming to St. Rudolf had been the right choice.

Was it, still? Now that things were different between them, could Yuuta return to Seigaku?

The seed of a plan began to plant itself deep within Fuji’s mind. It was still well buried and would need much feeding upon the sunlight and water of the tensai’s knowledge and creativity before it broke the surface and became a bud he was ready to acknowledge, but it was there, and it was feeding.


	6. Chapter 6

The lady of the house looked younger than she was with pretty features that bespoke a gentle calm. With intelligence burning in her eyes, she gave off a stronger aura of mentor than mother. Fuji felt a few pieces of the Tezuka puzzle slide into place with that meeting.

“Kunimitsu has talked about you quite a lot, Fuji-kun. It’s a pleasure to meet you at last,” she said, smiling pleasantly. That pleasantry never faded even with her next words. “I do not, however, approve of unforeseen visits at this time of the night. My son has studies to attend to, as I am sure you do as well.”

“I’m finished, mother,” said an uncharacteristically demure voice. “I was just planning to take a shower but if Fuji is dropping by unannounced so late, it must be urgent. As you know, I have a responsibility to my team as captain, and that includes aiding them on a personal level when necessary. I know you have an early morning tomorrow. I will pour some tea for us and ensure that we do not disturb you.”

“Very well. Come inside, Fuji-kun but please don’t stay too late.”

“I understand, mam. Please forgive me for showing up so suddenly.”

Tezuka led Fuji to a bedroom at the back of the house and gently closed the door behind them. Fuji wasn’t at all surprised by the impeccable order of the room. It looked more like an office, really, with a desk in pride of place, neatly trimmed with books and stationary. To one side was a tidy stack of text books which was mirrored by an equal stack of notebooks on the other side. Today’s homework.

Cutting short his observations, Tezuka’s arm around his waist guided Fuji to turn and a moment later he was met with a warm kiss, his lips melting willingly against Tezuka’s. He hadn’t come here for this. What he wanted was to talk and to confirm things between them as he had done with Yuuta earlier, but how could he refuse those soft, kind lips that had made life bearable for him again? Perhaps a little distraction wasn’t the worst thing that could happen. Who knew Tezuka was so sensual behind closed doors? He really had a way of-

Fuji’s train of thought came to an abrupt halt as suddenly he was released and Tezuka brushed past him with a mug in hand and slipped out the door. He was alone in Tezuka’s bedroom; his lips tingling, his groin throbbing, and his thoughts muddled. When Tezuka returned with two steaming mugs in hand, Fuji was sitting on the bed, still buzzing with confusion.

“What was that?” he asked.

Tezuka tilted his head just a touch, with the adorable air of a stumped puppy. “Tea,” he said. “Would you prefer water? Or juice?”

“No, that… kiss. What was that?” Fuji clarified, amazed that Tezuka didn’t seem to think anything was out of the ordinary. Clearly he was going to have to elaborate. “I thought you wanted… I thought we were going to…”

Tezuka calmly placed the mugs on top of coasters—producing one from his pocket once he had settled one mug—and then turned to lean against his desk, spearing Fuji with an observational gaze. After a short time, he smiled and walked over to the bed, seating himself with one leg curled between them so he could face Fuji side on. He brushed some of Fuji’s hair back behind his ear and smirked a little at that, too.

“Just a greeting,” he said. “Correct me if I’m wrong but I don’t think you came here for sex.”

Just like that, Fuji was absolved of his misinterpretation, expectations, and selfishness, all at once. The tension gushed out of him, leaving him feeling weak and boneless. He was glad for the arm that snaked about his waist.

“Not that I would mind,” Tezuka clarified, in a gruff, deep voice that backed up his words. “But if I were to guess, I would say you’ve been to St. Rudolf.”

“Yes,” Fuji agreed, searching Tezuka’s eyes to see what he thought of that.

“And?”

“I realized something,” Fuji whispered, wishing he could express what he wanted to say through his eyes so he wouldn’t have to put it all into speech. There was so much to say and none of it would sound right in words.

“Why don’t you start from the beginning?” Tezuka suggested, then forestalled him by breaking into motion and arranging them comfortably at the head of the bed. He positioned Fuji by the wall and lay along the edge of the bed himself, pillowing the tensai’s head on his shoulder and twining them in a loose embrace. They both sighed once they were settled, and Fuji knew he could not relinquish this comfort and security, even for Yuuta. 

“I was planning to ambush Yuuta,, to surprise him—but Mizuki showed up first,” he began.

“Mizuki?” Tezuka asked, sounding interested enough in the story for Fuji to add more detail than he had intended.

“That rat has been molesting my brother,” Fuji snarled.

“Has he now?” Tezuka prompted mildly.

Clearly Tezuka didn’t understand what a scoundrel Mizuki was, but Fuji had put him in his place, for sure. “I led him on until he was putty in my hands, and then I castrated him—metaphorically, of course.”

“Of course,” Tezuka murmured.

Something about his tone gave it away. “Tezuka, are you getting turned on?”

“What did Yuuta think about that?”

“Mizuki has him brainwashed! Do you know he tried to convince me Yuuta was better off with him? He actually has Yuuta thinking he ‘cares.’ He tried to convince me, too. If it weren’t-”

“Ok, I wanted to change the subject but I didn’t mean to rile you up this much,” Tezuka said with a chuckle. “If I agree that Mizuki is the scum of the Earth, can we get back on track?”

“Scum of the Earth AND a rotten liar,” Fuji fumed.

“And an awful tennis player, too,” Tezuka agreed. “But tell me, what happened with Yuuta?”

“Are you sure you don’t want to hear more about what I did to Mizuki?” Fuji baited, having found his sense of humor again with Tezuka’s cooperation.

“Maybe later,” Tezuka responded. 

“He knows,” Fuji began. “About us.”

“Mizuki?”

“Yuuta. I told him.”

“What happened, Fuji?” Tezuka asked, adjusting his embrace to increase the sense of support that surrounded Fuji.

Closing his eyes, Fuji relived the last few hours. He didn’t torture Tezuka with the intimate details but he did share his solution, that letting Yuuta take him had helped to absorb some of the guilt. He told Tezuka about the conversation they had had afterward and about his musing on the possibility of bringing Yuuta back to Seigaku. For the first time, Tezuka had betrayed discomfort at that, but his tone was neutral and his words encouraging if that was what Fuji wanted…

“Is it cruel of me to ask this of you?” Fuji asked.

“Which part?” Tezuka temporized.

“All of it,” Fuji whispered, turning slightly in Tezuka’s arms to be able to see his eyes. “To be my confidante, to be with me despite what you hear, to allow me to bring him home where we can be together, and to bring him under your wing, too…”

“A little,” Tezuka breathed, steadily meeting his gaze. “It’s a little cruel, but the alternative is crueler.”

The alternative being that Fuji cut Tezuka out of the equation to be with Yuuta alone because they both knew who he would choose if it came to that. 

“I haven’t thanked you,” Fuji noted, accepting that they would never fully be able to resolve the unbalanced nature of the triangle and letting that insecurity go, swinging one leg over Tezuka’s so that he was seated atop of his captain. “Without you, I might not have made it through today.”

Again, Tezuka stroked his hair back behind his ear with a soft smile that explained everything. “I’m glad you came to me.”

“I didn’t think about it. It just made sense to come here,” Fuji told him. He leaned down and pressed his lips to Tezuka’s in a parody of the greeting the captain had baffled him with earlier. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“You’re welcome,” Tezuka whispered back.

“I’m not done yet,” Fuji assured him with a touch of growl to his voice. He began slipping the buttons of Tezuka’s shirt, letting his hands slide over warm skin stretched over perfect musculature. When Tezuka made to return his touch, he diverted it and pinned the captain’s arms to the bed. “I said I was thanking you,” he scolded. “I also said I would tell you about Mizuki…”

“What did you do to Mizuki?” Tezuka asked, already showing a hint of breathlessness.

Fuji worked his way further down chiseled abs and let his tongue conduct other work for a short time before he began to speak and put his hands to good use instead. “I waited in the dark. The lights failed him and I could sense his panic as I pounced. I think he knew, even before he heard me move.” He worked the button of Tezuka’s pants and eased the zip down, letting it slowly caress the length trapped within. “When I knocked him to the floor, He yelled a pitiful excuse—he knew exactly what he’d done and what it would get him…” He let his hand wander between the two layers for a time, caressing and exploring as Tezuka’s breath hitched and gushed in alteration. “He was terrified, but he put on a brave show. I think he almost believed it when I let my lips linger just over his. His ego knows no bounds.” Pulling the outer layer down to Tezuka’s thighs, Fuji boldly cupped Tezuka’s groin and gave it a good squeeze that brought a blatant groan to his ears. “I think the knee I threatened his cock with actually turned him on. It was tempting to crush his hopes—if you know what I mean.” Tezuka let out an incoherent moan that Fuji was sure was supposed to be a reply of some sort. There was little doubt about it at this point. “You really like my sadistic side, don’t you?” Fuji asked lightly, briefly withdrawing his touch so that Tezuka could gather his senses to answer.

“I really like all of you.” Good answer.

But it begged a particular question that ran the risk of shattering the mood. Even so, Fuji had to ask it. “Even the part that’s in love with my own brother?”

Tezuka, flushed with spots of pink in his cheeks and nose, rose up just enough that he could look Fuji in the eyes and steadied himself with a breath. “Even that part,” he promised.

Choosing to overlook his intriguing observation of the physical reaction to the topic in Tezuka’s lower regions, Fuji slid further down until his breath caressed the practical briefs that strained around the aggravated bulge of Tezuka’s erection.

“Even the part that’s in danger of becoming obsessed with this sexy thing between your thighs?”

“Especially that part,” Tezuka choked out.

It wasn’t a moment for sentiment, but Fuji was struck by it anyway. Tezuka really meant that. He loved Fuji and there was a strong sense of emotion at play between them, but there was also a sexual chemistry neither could deny and it didn’t have to play second fiddle to the more wholesome “emotions” or the far less wholesome third point in this twisted love triangle. They could enjoy each other without shame, and that was something only Tezuka could give him.

Fuji smirked as he freed Tezuka’s length from the constricting barrier of material. “I like your parts, too,” he teased, and then proceeded to dismantle whatever ambiguity remained of the innuendo.

*

Fuji’s presence at the breakfast table of the Tezuka household went unnoticed as Tezuka’s mother was gone before they even awoke and his father was out of town. That suited the two lovers just fine as they kissed over coffee and shared bites of toast spread with different condiments that somehow got all over them both and required a lot of licking to remedy.


	7. Chapter 7

   
Fuji scanned the pathway at the entrance to the school, uncharacteristically jittery with excitement.  
   
"He should be here already."  
   
Tezuka made a lazy sound of agreement. "Yes, he should."  
   
Agreement wasn't enough. It wasn't what Fuji was looking for. "What if he's changed his mind?"  
   
"Not likely."  
   
That wasn't it, either.  
   
"How can you say that?"  
   
What Fuji wanted was for Tezuka to break the news to him that his irrational hopes and twisted romantic plot were at an end. He wanted Tezuka to explain that Yuuta wasn't coming so that he could begin to believe it, to process, and to figure out how he was going to go on after this.  
   
Fuji's attention was drawn like a magnet when Tezuka turned to him with a small, subtle smile. The captain waited until their gazes synched before speaking.  
   
"If he's half as crazy about you as I am, he'll be here—and he must be for this to have come so far. Be patient."  
   
It was still incredible to Fuji to have Tezuka's support in this. Acceptance was one thing. He would have thought the straight-laced captain would put up a good show of it but take every opportunity to discourage Fuji's immoral affair. Yet there he was, reassuring and advising, as if he approved.  
   
He didn't. Fuji knew that well. Whatever sense of arousal he got from Fuji's twisted actions, he didn't like the situation at all. All the same, he offered Fuji exactly the support he needed to keep it together. Fuji didn't deserve him.  
   
A little overwhelmed, he said exactly that.  
   
"Let's just hope none of us ever gets exactly what we deserve," Tezuka responded dryly, but not without humor.  
   
"A-Aniki! ...Tezuka." Fuji's heart leapt at the hesitant greeting. "...Buchou."  
   
"Fuj...Yuuta-kun. May I call you that?"  
   
"Uh, yeah. I guess it's better if everyone does. Anything but...what I used to get called."  
   
"Yes, I imagine that would be quite...awkward." Tezuka cleared his throat. "Fuji..?"  
   
"Don't you think you should call him Syusuke?"  
   
"I...suppose that would be for the best."  
   
"Yeah, well, I'd really rather not think of you calling him 'Fuji' even when you're-"  
   
"And I suppose 'you' call him 'Aniki?'"  
   
"No, I call him by his name! That's what it's for!"  
   
"Enough!" Frankly, Fuji had been too relieved to see his brother to take in much of what had escalated quickly into an argument but the tone, if not the words, finally got through to him. He darted forward to give Yuuta a quick hug to welcome him and to take the sting out of his next words. "Yuuta, you can't talk to Tezuka like that. He's your captain now."  
   
"Maybe this is a mistake," Yuuta mumbled, picking at the knot of stress atop Fuji's heart.  
   
"No," Tezuka said firmly. "It's not. At least, not on my account. I spoke out of line, Yuuta. I'm sorry. Let's not, either of us, make this any more complicated than it needs to be. Shall we go up to the school, then? I'm sure your family will be eager for you both to get home."  
   
"I don't see why. It's not like I haven't been around a lot lately anyway."  
   
As they headed back onto the school grounds, Fuji happily leaned in close to divulge, "Sis made a whole roast chicken dinner to welcome you back for good." Any excuse to be close to Yuuta. Maybe in time it would sink in and he would get used to having his brother so close at hand—but not yet. It was still too much of a luxury for Yuuta to willingly be around him, let alone to know that he wouldn't be running back off to St. Rudolf in a matter of days or hours.  
   
It was Friday afternoon and Yuuta had left St. Rudolf after his last class to come straight to Seigaku. He'd been scheduled to arrive half an hour after practice but had been delayed 20 minutes or so, causing Fuji's bout of doubts.   
   
They went up to the school together to meet with Yuuta's new homeroom teacher and gather his text books. He would have the weekend to sort things out and to become re-acquainted with the team at Saturday practice, and then his Seigaku life would resume from Monday.  
   
He was going to be in Kaidou's class. Fuji hoped that would help him adjust. The team were surprised at the announcement earlier that week but seemed happy to have him.   
   
Tezuka joined them as captain to sign the paperwork for Yuuta's re-admittance to the team so he could officially join the weekend practice but they all knew the captain was there for moral support. Yuuta was a little resentful of his presence but after that first clash he addressed Tezuka with the respect due a captain and senpai. Fuji could sense how desperately he wanted for them to be alone, though. He wanted that too, for now, but it disappointed him that Yuuta was so on edge despite how hard Tezuka was trying.  
   
Maybe he really was insane to think this could ever work. He needed it to, though. He needed to believe it would and that his happiness at having both Yuuta and Tezuka at his side would be allowed by whatever divine being was watching the scales and waiting for them to tip too far toward either joy or despair.  
   
Family dinner had never felt so strange. All of a sudden, the doting elder brother act seemed too thin a veil, leaving Fuji at a loss, and the lack of Yuuta's usual aggression toward his brother didn't go unnoticed. Everyone kept pointing out how surprised they were at Yuuta's decision to move back home and especially that he elected to return to Seigaku—happy, but surprised.  
   
"I just don't want to run away anymore," Yuuta sighed in exasperation.  
   
The way his eyes flicked to Fuji after he said it conveyed the more personal truth hidden under the surface and the big brother couldn't help pouncing just as he would have done before. He recognized the familiarity of the scene and instantly felt it was the only way they could pull this off, so he hugged, nuzzled, and grinned as Yuuta tried to shuck him off, announcing his joy and declaring that they should shower together to save time since they both had to be up bright and early for practice.  
   
"Syusuke, what are you thinking?" Yuuta hissed when the bathroom door was closed and locked behind them.  
   
"Shhh," Fuji whispered, taking Yuuta's sweet face between his hands and gazing at each feature he so adored. He leaned down for a kiss, thinking to put his thoughts and feelings into it, but Yuuta turned his face aside.   
   
"We can't!" he rasped. "What if they hear something, or suspect something, or--you can't keep fawning over me or they'll know!"  
   
"It's too late now," Fuji breathed. "Now that we live under one roof again...We'll be around each other all the time. If you think I can resist the temptation, you're mad. Don't you see? This is the best way. I've never hidden how much I adore you. If I start now, they'll be far more likely to suspect something's up."  
   
It seemed like such a clever idea to Fuji; hiding in plain sight. He couldn't see why it seemed to make Yuuta so sad.  
   
"If we go back to how it was before...It'll break my heart, Syusuke. I don't want to go on pretending to hate you, not to myself or to anyone else."  
   
All Fuji had to do was imagine it for a moment to tear up. "That would break my heart, too," he said solemnly. "But it's ok. We don't have to. We'll find a new dynamic, a front we can live with."  
   
He began stripping down and took care of Yuuta's clothes as well as his brother spoke, then began running the water in the shower and testing the temperature.  
   
"Maybe, but not what you're thinking, cause I don't think I can hide it. Don't you see? When you throw yourself on me I heat up. When you moon at me, I want to moon back, stupid as it is. When you tell people how much you love me and they look at you with amusement or pity...I wanna shout at them and tell them just how much I love you back. It won't work. It's not possible."  
   
Fuji simply couldn't help the way those words made him float up on a cloud of happiness. If he was grinning a Cheshire grin, it wasn't his fault—but he schooled his expression into one less overtly thrilled and more placating before turning and taking Yuuta's hand, pulling him into the shower.  
   
"Ok, you're right," he said. "I get it. We'll have to work out something, but for now...here we are all alone. I mean to make the most of it."  
   
Fuji would be damned if he'd be thwarted twice. This time, he thrust Yuuta under the spray then kissed him while he was off his guard, the water cascading gaily around them. To his delight, Yuuta relaxed into the kiss almost immediately, his arms rising around Fuji's waist and his neck tilting to deepen the angle of their embrace.  
   
However, unlike Fuji, he didn't quite forget the need to breathe and eventually broke free, gasping. At the same time, he nudged Fuji backward and stepped out of the spray himself, glaring up from under dark, soggy bangs with rivulets of water trickling down his face and neck.  
   
Contrary to Fuji's expectations, he didn't stop there and try to revive the discussion. Instead, he kept pressing Fuji carefully backward until the elder brother's foot hit the round of the bath and he lost his balance. Then Yuuta caged him as he fell onto his backside at the corner of the bath, keeping him from toppling over and helping him to sit more stably on the rim.  
   
Fuji blinked through the water running into his own eyes and tried to imagine how he might look to Yuuta's vision right now. It was a moot point, though, because in another moment Yuuta was too close to be able to see a thing and they were kissing again, eyes closed, tongues wrapping and writhing like riled snakes.  
   
When Fuji flinched, it was a jolt of both pleasure and surprise as Yuuta pinched his nipples one after the other and began to roll them. He choked down a moan and reached up to feel out Yuuta's chest until he found the pert little buds there and began flicking them back and forth under his thumbs. Yuuta wasn't so successful in keeping his reaction silent but he did manage to keep his little noises quiet, which only threw oil on the fire Fuji was barely keeping contained within him.  
   
He was just trying to figure out the logistics of how they could take things up a notch so as not to be in the shower together all night—which would certainly raise some questions—when Yuuta slid down in the tub and settled on his knees. He looked up through his stubby, ashen lashes—eyes molten with his own arousal—and took Fuji's erection in his fist, drawing it to his mouth.  
   
Folding his lips inward and trapping them between his teeth, Fuji poured his focus into not crying out. Yuuta was right. In his excitement to be together, he had underestimated how dangerous this could be.  
   
Yuuta's eyes were smug and scolding, even as he bobbed, sucking gently on the engorged head of Fuji's gradually swelling length. It was still too new and exciting, looking down to see Yuuta doing unspeakable things to him and drawing such waves of feeling to the surface of his skin. The thrill of exposure was a quiet terror that only heightened the sensory elements. Fuji was pitifully grateful not to last very long. He stuffed the knuckle of his thumb between his lips and sucked until he had no breath to make a peep as he came hard into Yuuta's sexy little mouth.  
   
He slid bonelessly down into the bowl of the bath when he was done, his feet splashing through the shallowly pooling water. Yuuta loomed over him. After staring for a short while as Fuji regained his breath, Yuuta bent and softly kissed his cheek, then scrambled to stand. He forced Fuji to get up, too, and shuffled him under the spray to wash off the sheen of sweat coating his skin.  
   
"Syusuke," he said, reaching for the soap, "I don't mean to be negative." He started lathering up Fuji's skin. "I love you. I am happy to be here with you. I'm just..."  
   
"Scared," Fuji finished. "I know. But nothing scares me more than being apart from you again."    
   
"That's why we have to be careful, or they'll keep us apart for good," Yuuta reasoned.  
   
Fuji sighed. "When did you get so wise?"  
   
"I don't know," said Yuuta, with a surprisingly straight face. "I guess I just have to be from now on."  
   
There he was; Fuji's beloved little brother shouldering the responsibilities of the world...Fuji's responsibilities.   
   
"I'll do better," Fuji whispered, taking the soap from Yuuta and starting to work it over his brother's skin in little circles. "That's my job."  
   
"It doesn't have to be," Yuuta argued, lifting his arms up around Fuji's neck and holding on as he was soaped up. He relaxed easily into the touch of the soap and the stroking hands that took over, ostensibly to spread the suds and help rinse them off. "Don't you see? All our lives, we've struggled to fit the mold. Big brother, little brother, and all the stereotypes that go hand in hand—but that's not who we are. It never has been, and now we know it. Why do you have to be the responsible one? Just because you're older? I don't think any of that matters anymore."  
   
"Perhaps," Fuji agreed. "But that's no excuse for me to act irresponsibly," he pointed out—doing just that as his soapy hand slid down into bristly curls, his fingers splaying to either side of the hard obstruction in their path. He continued soaping up that patch of hair, scissoring the base of Yuuta's arousal while he was at it. He loved the way Yuuta's breath shortened into semi-panted sounds and the way his lightly shaded eyes turned darker with lust as his pupils expanded. "I have to take care of you no matter what," he murmured, letting the innuendo reach its full potential. "Just like you take care of me."  
   
He wrapped his hand firmly about Yuuta's length and began stroking firmly and surely, undulating his grip as he went to keep the stimulation fresh and unpredictable, even as he brought Yuuta's passion to a swift rise. After all, they had already been sequestered in the bathroom together for long enough. He watched and waited, measuring Yuuta's reactions until he could predict when it was almost too much. That was when he stuck his tongue down Yuuta's throat and swallowed the low moan that made a bid for freedom.  
   
He increased the pace of his stroking then, finishing Yuuta off in one go and silencing him with the ongoing, head-spin inducing kiss. Yuuta broke away, gasping heavily, but contained any further cries as he shuddered through his orgasm. He stood there, panting, held up mostly by Fuji's other arm about his waist, and then leaned his forehead into Fuji's shoulder.  
   
Fuji gave him a moment, and then drew him back under the spray to wash away both the soap and the evidence of their misdeeds. Saying little, they quickly helped to wash each others' hair and then dried each other off. One last kiss later and Fuji released the lock on the door, opening it up to the outside world where they were family once more and not lovers.   
   
*  
   
Yuuta couldn't remember the last time he had felt so bright and cheerful waking up in his own home early on a Saturday morning. St. Rudolf had been his choice and the members of his team there had become like a second family but it wasn't the same as being with his own family. At the time, that had been the point. Being with his own family had been torture and his team his only solace. However, his on-and-off relationship with Mizuki wasn't nearly enough to compensate for the feelings and needs he had been avoiding. Perhaps there was even a part of him that had chosen Mizuki because he knew it would hit Syusuke the hardest. Whatever his reasons, he would miss his friends from St. Rudolf and his important position on the team...but he was glad to be home. He was even glad to be facing the fears he had run from where Seigaku was concerned.  
   
Waking up to a cloudless sky and favorable weather didn't hurt in making it seem like a brand new day full of exciting prospects. Yuuta was determined to re-write his short past at Seishun Gakuen Middle School and he was going to prove himself with his tennis.   
   
He was the first one up and stretched out in the kitchen, enjoying the luxury of having such a space. He wasn't crazy about cooking but having all the tools and ingredients at hand, he couldn't resist making himself some pancakes...and decided to make some for Syusuke, too. He paired them with orange juice, fixed up a tray, and headed upstairs.  
   
Without knocking, he slipped quietly into his brother's room after a short struggle with the handle and balancing of the tray. Syusuke was awake, watching him like a sleepy lion waiting for it chance to pounce.  
   
"None of that," Yuuta scolded. "I made pancakes."  
   
Syusuke brightened instantly, seeming to wake all at once. He sat up and peered at the tray of pancakes and fresh fruit with honey.  
   
"They look good!"  
   
"You don't have to sound so surprised," Yuuta grumbled.  
   
"I didn't know you could cook," Syusuke chirped, planting his feet on the floor and pulling his blanket over his lap to accommodate the plate he liberated from the tray.  
   
Yuuta almost lost the balancing act when the weight shifted and hurriedly set it down on the bedside table. He took his own plate and juice and settled cross-legged on the floor.  
   
Tilting his head, Syusuke looked down at his lap, then at Yuuta. A moment later, he slid off the end of the bed and reached up to the bedside table to fetch hi sown juice.   
   
The bemused little smile he wore was incredibly beautiful in Yuuta's eyes. It wasn't one of his forced expressions or a smile plastered on for someone else's sake, it was one of the most real smiles Yuuta had ever seen him wear...and it was all thanks to him.   
   
"I just thought it'd be nice to have breakfast together for a change," he explained, even though no questions were asked.  
   
"It's a lovely way to start the day," Syusuke agreed, his smile widening minutely.  
   
"Yuuta? Is this your mess?"  
   
The shout traveled clearly throughout the house, causing Yuuta to wince and Syusuke to grin in a new and predatory manner.  
   
"I'll clean it up before I go!" Yuuta yelled back, sighing.  
   
"No, I'll do it," Syusuke offered. "Seeing as you went to the trouble of cooking."  
   
"You still have to get dressed," Yuuta pointed out. "Let's just enjoy breakfast. Then you can get dressed and help me dry the dishes before we go. Ok?"  
   
"That sounds heavenly," Syusuke told him.  
   
What a stupid thing to say, like drying dishes together was right up there on his bucket list; his primary goal in life! He was so weird sometimes...but Yuuta liked that about him. He was unpredictable, and usually in the cutest ways. Yuuta's eyes strayed to his comical pet cacti, and to the photos of cacti past strewn about his walls. Syusuke was...quirky. His own quirky quirk.  
   
These were the buoyant thoughts that kept a spring in his step all the way to Seigaku. He felt a little nervous at the gates but Syusuke took his hand without hesitation and pulled him through, smiling all the while. Some of the team were already there, including Tezuka, who tipped his head to Yuuta in greeting. Kikumaru Eiji was another early bird and he pounced on Yuuta with a big bear hug, making some comment about how he always knew Yuuta would be back and that he made the right choice because Seigaku was going to trounce St. Rudolf. Yuuta considered being bothered by that kind of talk but he couldn't exactly refute it. Seigaku was a winning team and one he should be proud to be accepted back into. Maybe he wouldn't be a regular anymore—at least, not until he dislodged someone in the ranking matches—but it wouldn't be like before. He was going to use this opportunity to grow, with Syusuke in his sights, rather than being stunted and crippled by inadequacy.   
   
More and more people arrived, some who recognized Yuuta from their matches against St. Rudolf but many more who remembered Yuuta as "Otouto-kun" and had to be corrected over and over again. It was inevitable that his spirits started to sink so that he was feeling a little low when the time came to greet the team.  
   
To his surprise, it was Tezuka who revitalized his spirits.   
   
"As I'm sure you have all noticed, we have a new addition to the team. You are, of course, familiar with Fuji, Yuuta; a player who proved a worthy opponent during our matches with St. Rudolf. We are lucky to have him back with us. When Yuuta was first a part of this team as a first-year, he was mistreated and underestimated by upperclassmen who couldn't recognize his own talent and potential. There will be no shadows cast in my team. Everybody will work hard and rise of their own merit without reputation or bias standing in the way—and make no mistake, anyone who fails to refer to Yuuta by his name will run laps. That's all. Yuuta, if you would like to introduce yourself?"  
   
"Hi," he said, a little hesitantly. Syusuke nodded encouragement at him. "It's been a while," he added, gathering his courage and his thoughts. "I left Seigaku with the intention of finding my own place in the world and my own style of tennis. I don't know if I've found that yet but I know I'm not the same Fuji, Yuuta...the same 'Otouto-kun' who went searching. I hope I can find the rest of those answers here, together with all of you."  
   
"Well said."  
   
Yuuta almost jumped at the quiet comment from Tezuka who gave him a little twitch of approval at the corners of his mouth. The captain then proceeded to bark out orders and practice kicked into gear with people scattering to their assigned courts, positions, and jobs.   
   
"Yuuta. I'd like to test your growth for myself," Tezuka announced suddenly when only a handful of regulars were left.   
   
The blood and life seemed to drain right out of Yuuta's skull. "A match?" he asked. "Between you and me?"  
   
This was what Mizuki had trained him for but he'd barely held his own against Echizen before getting trounced. If he was barred from using the twist-spin shot, he had no chance!   
   
"Not quite. Echizen. F...Syusuke." Everyone's ears perked up at the first name but the reaction to the second was drastic. They looked at Syusuke, at Yuuta, at Tezuka, and back at Syusuke before coming to obverse Tezuka again. "We'll play a doubles game. Lefties vs. brothers. Oishi, you'll referee." If it was possible to generate any more shock in the atmosphere, there might have been an explosion. Yuuta had heard about Echizen's abysmal doubles record. He didn't think it could be enough to save him from humiliation, though...and yet...he would be playing alongside Syusuke. Surely a tensai was worth something. Better yet, a tensai he had been watching up close for his whole life! There could be merit in their pairing up as a doubles team. He was skilled against lefties even without the damaging special move. They might just have a shot!  
   
*  
   
The way Ryouma saw it, he was just decoration. Tezuka chose him because he had the least to offer in a doubles match. All he had to do was serve and then let Tezuka press Yuuta until he got the answers he was looking for. Fuji the elder was less decorative. He was there to keep Yuuta afloat and save the match from being a one-sided humiliation.  
   
It was uncommonly kind of the captain to go out of his way to play a second year and to make a show of not crushing him at that. It was less kind of him to drag Ryouma into the farce.  
   
That was, until he realized he had a front-row seat to the unfolding mystery of why Tezuka was dragging the match out for so long. It was almost as if he was toying with Yuuta. Of course, the longer it went on, the more the Fuji pair solidified, but if that was Tezuka'S goal he would be pushing them much harder. From Echizen's perspective, it looked like he was trying to raise Yuuta's confidence and put on a show of Yuuta's skills for the rest of the team who were paying far more attention to the match than they should have been.  
   
The question was why. Had Fuji asked it of him? Fuji, Syusuke, that was. He had he made an appeal for the sake of his darling younger brother?   
   
That couldn't be it. Fuji looked just as intrigued as Echizen was. The only one playing who seemed to be out of the loop was Yuuta, who continuously poured his all into every shot, rushed to his brother's aid, and rejoiced with every point they won.  
   
Eventually, when the match ended, he seemed to be filled with elation as if they had been victorious rather than losing to the "lefty" team 6-4. Yuuta rushed up to Tezuka and sank into a deep bow. "Thank you," he said, his eyes sparkling with some kind of emotion.  
   
That was the moment Echizen began to suspect. Was there a secret affair going on beneath their noses. One that had brought Yuuta back to live with his brother and play for this team?  
   
Were Tezuka and the younger Fuji romantically involved?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An update! An update! Inconceivable!!! ^_^;
> 
> This story, one of the first I started writing in the PoT fandom, is finally coming towards its end! There may only be one or two chapters to go! Please hang in there and see it through with me!!


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